Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2018
My quick lie offered me
a knock-off respite, obviously overpriced and inevitably shoddy, but real and present and there for me even while it was dropping away like a slow knife, falling beyond my desperate dive towards the inevitable piecing of my carefully structured delusion, counting the cost of those few moments of delayed capitulation.
My quick lie lied to me.
I panicked. And I'm paying for it.
Steve Page
Written by
Steve Page  56/M/London, U.K.
(56/M/London, U.K.)   
   Fawn and Cheryl
Please log in to view and add comments on poems